


Hacked

by lovelinds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-16 08:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelinds/pseuds/lovelinds
Summary: Hacker!Draco & Auror!HarryBased on a Tumblr post by punkrockgrantaire"Are there like.... Hackers? In the Harry Potter Universe? Are there super talented Charm experts who unravel layer upon layer of security charms around the Ministry of Magic only to leave little confetti spells that shout "I beat you!" Just to prove they can? Rival hackers remotely charming and uncharming each other's secure locations to see who'll win. Criminal Charmers who get into vaults secured with five levels of explosive traps. Charmers working for the ministry, who were caught in their early 20s and given the choice -Azkaban or work for the ministry. Just like. Hackers. Magical Hackers."





	1. 54L4Z4R

Draco Lucius Malfoy sat alone in his bedroom, cursing life for what it was. If you had told him that at age 24, he'd be living alone and crying over his misfortune, he would've called you a liar, and then hexed you into oblivion. Draco had practically lost everything following Voldemort's defeat in the Second Wizarding War. Malfoy Manor and other his other assets were confiscated by the Ministry of Magic. The money from within the Malfoy vault at Gringotts had been "donated" to Hogwarts and war reparation charities. Donated might not have been the best word to use for what happened to Draco Malfoy. 

Draco had measly avoided rotting in Azkaban thanks to Potter's testimonial at his hearing, but he had not been let off easily. The Ministry couldn't afford to go against Potter's wishes, considering he had just saved the wizarding world, but they were not going to let a former Death Eater off with just a slap on the wrist. No. They needed to get their justice. They created a list of conditions that Draco had to follow, if he disagreed or broke any of those said conditions, he would be sent straight back to Azkaban with no hope of returning. It was made very clear that he would not get a second chance, even if Harry Potter himself cried and begged for it- which would of course **never** happen.

Harry had felt obligated to speak on the youngest Malfoy's behalf, not because he wanted to save him, but because he knew that Draco did not deserve Azkaban. Don't get confused, however, Harry Potter still hated Draco Malfoy. Potter despised Malfoy because of his role in the war, but he was aware that Draco was not like the other Death Eaters. Harry understood why Draco did what he did, however, he did NOT agree with it. Harry had even said so himself after Draco was released from Ministry custody. Harry stuck around long enough to confront Malfoy one last time. Draco wanted to thank him for saving him from Azkaban, but his pride only allowed him to give Harry a sneer that lacked its usual bite. Harry wasn't expecting an apology either, for he knew Draco Malfoy well enough to know that it just wasn't possible.

Harry had told him his reasons for testifying on his behalf. Contrary to popular belief, he actually believed that Draco wasn't an awful, murderous, revolting, disgraceful, unredeemable Death Eater after all! (Note the sarcasm). He, did, however, see Draco as a victim of circumstance, much as he had been. He told Draco to stay out of trouble, even resorting to using his first name to really get his sincerity across, and he wished him luck on his "quest to redemption," as he had called it. Draco scoffs at the memory whenever it pops into his mind. As if he could actually redeem himself after what he had done and what he had become.

Draco has committed that day to memory. He had done so mainly because he had enjoyed the brief warmth he had felt when ~~Harry~~ Potter had sincerely told him that he wasn't a _completely_ awful person, although he would never admit it. He told himself that he had memorized this day because that was the day he was given his conditions. Draco glanced down at his bedside table, containing the indestructible physical copy he received of them. Draco always found it amusing that they basically made a template for his conditions, considering he was the only Death Eater that was "rescued" from Azkaban. He sincerely doubted that the Ministry would ever have to write such conditions again. The offending parchment read:

I, (x) Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear to abide by all rules and conditions listed on this parchment. The Ministry of Magic has the right to alter, change, and/or add any conditions/rules at any time. Until further notice of the Minister, (x)Draco Lucius Malfoy must report to the Ministry once every month, by Floo, to be evaluated. If at any time, the above signee fails his/her evaluations, he/she will be subject to the punishment of the minister. Punishment may include, but is not limited to, permanent placement at Azkaban Penitentiary. The above signee hereby agrees to all conditions stated and listed on this parchment. 

I. (x)DM is not to be involved in ANY sorts of dark magic. Dark magic may include dark charms, potions, artifacts, etc.. 

II. (x)DM must hand over all assets to the Ministry for evaluation before they can be returned. Any of these said assets may be indefinitely confiscated by the Ministry.  At any time, the Ministry has the right to search and evaluate any of the signee's belongings and property. All belongings and properties MUST be reported and registered with the Minister. Any unreported belongings or properties will be immediately, and indefinitely, confiscated by the Ministry of Magic.

III. (x)DM, on behalf of his/her actions during the war, must also donate to war reparations weekly. The amount donated is to be determined by the minister. Failure to donate will lead to an increase in the donation amount. The Ministry, at any time, has the right to the signee's vault. All payments and transactions involving the signee's vault are to be monitored. The Ministry, at any time, has the right to investigate said payments and transactions and/or confiscate all funds in said vault. 

IV. (x)DM agrees to submit to any demands made by the Minister in any future instances.

V. (x) Draco Lucius Malfoy hereby waives his/her right object to Veritaserum in any future investigation. 

_________________________________

Draco scowls at the paper as if it is solely to blame for his current predicament. He was grateful to be rid of Azkaban, but these conditions made it practically impossible for him to redeem himself. What did they truly expect him to do in this situation? The Ministry practically took everything from him and they expected him to be grateful for it. They really should have known better. To think that Draco Malfoy would just accept the fate they've given him is quite laughable, really. Come to think of it, they really should have been more specific in their ~~~~conditions.

Draco had wanted to become a better person, he really had. He despised himself for his place in the war, but it wasn't enough for him to allow himself to be stepped on by the Wizarding community. Draco had become pretty creative when it comes to what he does in his spare time. He still  ~~technically~~ obeys their conditions and passes his evaluations, but he is nowhere near an outstanding member of society. Draco Malfoy has anonymously become the Ministry's biggest fears. Known as 54L4Z4R, he is the best and most terrifying hacker that the wizarding world has ever seen. 


	2. Where It All Began

Hacking in the wizarding world was very different than what muggles call "hacking." Although, the principle of them both is quite similar. Most hackers, magical and muggle alike, typically have the same purpose. Hackers alter systems and/or security features to accomplish a goal that differs from the original purpose of the system, or in Draco's case, the spell. Draco wasn't hacking digital files or leaving behind computer viruses. Draco was using his own magic and skill to alter that of others. Imagine that whenever a spell was cast, the caster was weaving their magic into a pattern, much like a computer code. The code of magic woven together with the caster's intent is what leads to the successful casting of the spell. The complicated patterns of spells and magic are hardly ever seen, but they are always there.

It makes sense when you think about why younger witches and wizards can't produce more complicated spells. Complicated spells, such as The Unforgivables, have much more complicated patterns. Their inexperience makes them unable to subconsciously create the patterns. Younger magical beings also don't have enough control over their own magic to complete the patterns necessary to complete the spells. Hackers, such as Draco, had trained themselves to see the patterns and magical signatures. Magical signatures, much like DNA, are unique to each individual wizard. By analyzing a spell pattern, they can determine what the spell is and when it was cast. They can also figure out who cast the spell, but they would need to know the person with that magical signature. Draco had made it a point to memorize the spell patterns of certain undesirable witches and wizards in case he ever stumbled upon a particularly nasty curse or spell. 

His mother had taught him this skill when he was younger. Narcissa was very much a loyal supporter of the Dark Lord, but she was still a mother. She knew the danger of her family's allegiance and she wanted to give Draco all the skills he would need to prevail, even if Voldemort had failed. This skill had proved very useful during the war. He secretly changed spells and curses that were ordered by the Dark Lord to be set in place by Death Eaters. As much as the Ministry believed Draco did nothing to help their side during the war, he likely saved countless lives. However, due to him manipulating said spells, many other Death Eaters were punished for their "faulty" magic.  

After the war, Draco had innocently used the skill to make his home more, well, liveable. The flat he had managed to afford was dark and had a lot of magic residue, so to speak. He used his knowledge of magical patterns to erase all former magic present in his home. However, he started to find a more practical use for his skill. 

Draco was obviously a target for many taunts and insults thanks to his family's involvement, but verbal insults were not the only negative things directed at him. Draco could barely walk 10 feet without someone sending a tripping or stinging hex his way. While he felt like he deserved everything being thrown at him, the hexes had become quite annoying. Draco would never cast a protection spell for this, not because of his guilt, but because it would damage his pride too much to let the nasty buggers know they had gotten to him. Well that, coupled with the fact that he never excelled in defensive spells. DADA had not been his best subject while at Hogwarts. 

Instead, he silently altered their spell patterns as they sent them his way. He was able to diffuse the spell before they would make it within five feet of him. It took a lot of concentration on his end, but it was always worth it when he looked back at the stunned faces of the people who had their own precious magic fail them. 

 Draco was lost in his concentration as he walked through the London streets. Regardless of the looks and insults set his way from the witches and wizards in London, he enjoyed walking through town. Well, he enjoyed it until an awfully annoying voice behind him interrupted him. 

"Fancy seeing you here, _Malfoy_." 

"Well, if it isn't my _least_ favorite Gryffindor. To what do I owe the pleasure, Potter? Do you actually want something from me or did you just interrupt my relaxing walk through London for no reason?"

"Considering the fact that you're standing in front of the walkway to my home, Malfoy, I feel like I have an adequate reason to speak up. Would you like to move or shall I invite you inside for a cup of tea and a catch-up?"

"You're hardly big enough to be allowed to ride those muggle death contraptions at the fair. Unbeknownst to you, you're still just as scrawny as you were the day I met you. Surely I am not blocking your path into your home. Alas, if it is that much of an inconvenience for you for me to stand on a public sidewalk, I will move aside."

"Whatever, Malfoy." 

Draco watched as Harry shoved past him to stand on the grass before buildings 11 and... 13? Harry look exhausted, it was obvious he was eager to get inside his home, however, he hesitated for a few brief moments.

"What are waiting for, Potter? Did you suddenly forget how to walk up steps?" 

Harry didn't even do so much as to glance behind him in Draco's direction. Instead, he sighed and mumbled under his breath. Draco stood shocked as the towering buildings slid to make room for another building. Nestled between buildings 11 and 13, lied 12 Grimmauld Place. It was obvious to Draco that a spell had been cast on the house to keep it hidden, but he was momentarily fueled by his curiosity to learn more about the property.

Intrigued, he turned to face Potter, "this is your home?"

"No, this is my pet. Of course, it's my house, Malfoy. I suppose you suspect that the  _precious savior_ would live in his own castle, but I assure you, this home is all I will ever need or want. Now if you'll please excuse me, I'm knackered I would like to go to sleep and pretend this encounter never happened." Without another word, Potter turned back and entered the front door, forcefully shutting it behind him.

Draco stood with his mouth agape as he watched Potter disappear into his home. He had truly expected him to be living it up somewhere better than muggle London. Draco soon snapped out of whatever trance Potter had put on him and he began to walk back to his own home. His mind appeared empty, but for some reason, Draco was unable to concentrate at all on his long walk back to his own crummy flat. 


	3. The Rise To Power

At first, Draco had really meant no harm in his hacking. He simply wanted to make his life a little bit easier. However, his situation was constantly worsening. The Ministry was taking more and more of his money, even when he barely had enough to pay for his flat. Much to his house elf's dismay, he would often skip meals because he was unable to afford it. Overall, he was slowly losing his mind.

He reached the breaking point one day when his landlord woke him up in the early hours of the morning screaming.

"MR. MALFOY... MALFOY! ...DRACO! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"

Draco jumped out of bed and almost tripped as he scrambled to tie his robe around his waist. He was utterly exhausted, but he shuffled his way to his front door. Dreading what he expected to such a _pleasant_ conversation, he sighed before unlocking the deadbolt and swinging the door open.

When the door was fully opened he faced his small, yet terrifying landlord, Johnathan Allan. "Mr. Allan, how can I help you?"

"How can you help me? How can _you_ help _me_ , Mr. Malfoy? Well, for starters, you could help me by paying your _overdue_ rent on time! You do realize that you are not the only person here who has bills to pay, don't you? I feel like I have been more than considerate and compassionate towards you and your situation, Mr. Malfoy, but I can not deal with this foolishness much longer."

"I know, Mr, Allan, I am terr-"

"Tonight."

"What?"

"You have until tonight. _Tonight,_ Mr. Malfoy. If your rent is not in my hands by witching hour, you are to be evicted immediately."

"What? No. You can't do that. That's not possible, you know I don't have the funds right now!"

"Well, then it is not possible for you to stay here. I apologize for the short notice, but my hands are tied. I would advise you to start packing and looking for a new place to stay. Good day, Malfoy."

Mr. Allan turned on his heels and stalked back out of the hallway to his car. Draco stood outside of his door for a few minutes, trying to stomach the news.

He screamed out in pure frustration, "where does he expect me to come up with the money by tonight?!" Stomping back into his flat, he slammed the door behind him. He threw himself down on his sofa as all the frustration he had been feeling since he started at Hogwarts rose to the surface. He was frustrated that he ever had to be involved in the war and he was frustrated that he was losing everything. He knew it wouldn't be long before he lost himself too.

***

Draco spent the entire morning contemplating the few options he had left. He could move out and try to convince Pansy to let him crash at her place until he could find somewhere else to stay? Draco cringed at the thought, he was still too prideful to let himself become someone's burden. He could... no. There's no way he could even possibly...

Unless... Draco jumped up front his spot on the sofa and ran to get his wand. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he closed his eyes and started meditating. He had to completely clear his mind and focus on what he was trying to do. After a few moments of his quiet meditation, Draco was able to visualize Gringotts. However, this was not merely just a vision from a memory. Draco was using his magic to put himself there, so to speak. It was as if Draco was truly standing before Gringotts bank. His meditation and magic allowed him to work in a sort of metaphysical state.

His physical body was still sitting on his bed, but his mind and magic were standing on the London street. Taking a deep breath and focusing, he pushed his metaphysical self to walk inside the building. Draco's physical body was trembling, but his mind was clear. Draco knew what he had to do - he had to hack his way inside of an "impenetrable" Gringotts vault.


	4. The Boy Who Worked

Harry Potter had been working with the Aurors since the battle at Hogwarts. Following the battle, he was immediately offered a position as an Auror. He had briefly gone back to Hogwarts to complete his NEWTS and he had undergone all of his Auror training. Harry passed training with flying colors at the top of his class. (Although, admittedly, he probably used _expelliarmus_ more times than what was truly necessary, but hey, it's his go-to spell.) He had been moving up the ranks rapidly, easily surpassing senior Aurors who had been in the program much longer than he had been. Harry couldn't tell if he was being promoted so fast because he was _that_ good or because he was their "savior." Either way, Harry never really read too much into it as he was grateful to have the job he had always desired.

Harry enjoyed being an Auror. However, he didn't enjoy it because he had a "savior complex," as Malfoy had liked to call it. Rather, he enjoyed it because it gave him a purpose and it allowed him to protect those he loved. Harry had lost a lot in his youth and being an Auror finally made him feel in control of his destiny. He felt like he mattered.  

He wouldn't exactly call his work _easy..._ In fact, it was often challenging and physically demanding. However, compared to facing Voldemort, his work in the field was a piece of cake. Harry was often put in charge of teams hunting dark wizards, former Death Eaters and investigating cases of dark magic, but he had quickly grown sick of constantly being reminded of Voldemort and the war he caused. 

Harry wanted change; he didn't want to leave the Aurors, but he wanted to focus his energy on something else. He decided to meet with Head Auror, Gawain Robards, to discuss a new option for him. He had prepared an elaborate speech in his mind. He was sure that they weren't going to let go of him so easily, especially since he was so good at dealing with all things Voldemort. 

Harry had stayed up all night preparing his argument. He knew exactly what he had to say to strongly make his case. After a particularly long day of following dead leads for unaccountable Death Eaters, he finally made his way to Robards' office. 

He straightened his posture as he reached the door to his office and he began to raise his hand to knock at the door.

"Come in, Harry."

Harry froze before his hand even reached the mahogany surface of Robards' door. He truly should've expected him to an alert system for visitors, he was Head Auror after all. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Harry pushed open the door. 

"Mr. Robards, I am sorry to have bothered you so late."

"Nonsense, Harry. Your presence will always be welcomed here. Please, have a seat." Harry slowly made his way to sit on the chair placed in front of Robards' desk. "Don't get me wrong, Harry, I am thrilled that you have stopped by, but what has driven you to come to see me so late on a Saturday night? Shouldn't you be out with Ginerva?"

"Well, I uh-" Harry coughed to clear his throat and strengthen his voice, "I wanted to talk to you about my position here as an Auror, Mr. Robards."

"Your position? Harry you can't possibly mean to tell me that you want to quit?"

Harry immediately shook his head at Robards' assumption. "No, no. Not at all, sir. You see, I just want to do something different. After the war, I was honored to work with the Aurors to eliminate all remaining traces of Voldemort and his followers, I just think it's time for me to move on. The war wasn't easy for any of us, but working so closely with the aftermath hasn't allowed me to move forward and heal properly. I'm sure your aware that I've had nightmares of the war for years. I talked to my healer, Dr. Ramone, and she thinks it would be beneficial for me to-"

"Say no more, Harry. You are an excellent Auror and you are the most hard-working one I have seen in a long time. I know how much time and energy you have dedicated to our cause. If you feel like you need a change of scenery, so to speak, then who would I be to refuse."

Harry was shocked at how easily he had agreed with him. His mind wandered to all the hours he spent preparing his argument, but he quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. "Really? I mean.. you're sure?"

"Yes, Harry. I am sure. I am nothing if not reasonable." Robards paused for a minute before continuing, "I have actually been talking with the Ministry and we have been planning to create a new branch of Aurors."

"A new Auror branch? What for?"

"Well you see, with Voldemort gone, we have been able to focus on other threats. There has been something weird going on recently and we have reason to suspect some kind of dark magic. However, it isn't a curse and it isn't any type of magic that we have seen before."

"But... I'm sorry, sir, how is that possible?"

"We're not quite sure how it's possible and that seems to be our main problem. All we know is that there has been some kind of magical interference happening across London. Gringotts was the first to report this interference, but many other locations have come forward and reported similar situations since. We need to figure out what is causing this before it evolves and becomes a serious problem."

"I'm not quite sure I'm following, sir. How are we going to figure out what's happening if we don't even know _how_ it's happening?"

"That, Harry, is precisely why the Minister and I are creating this program. I feel your skills would prove to be very helpful towards figuring this out. I'm willing to offer you a position as the appointed leader of this new branch. The Minister and I have decided to call it the Beauru of Investigating Magical Interferences, or BIMI for short. Do you think you'd be interested in such a position, Harry?"

"Of course I would be, Mr. Robards. I can't honestly promise that I'd be able to figure out what's happening, but I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to get it done.

"See, that is exactly why you are my favorite Auror, Harry Potter. I don't want to have to keep you here much longer, it's obvious that you are severely exhausted. Why don't you head home and get some rest while I start filling out the paperwork for your new position?"

"Yes, sir." 

"Excellent. Again, thank you for stopping by, it has been a pleasure. I believe that I should have all the necessary paperwork completed by tomorrow so I would appreciate it if you could stop by tomorrow morning so that we may work on finalizing everything."

"Of course, sir, I will see you in the morning then." With that, Harry stood up and made his way out of the Head Auror's office. As he grabbed the handle to shut the door behind him, he paused. 

"Mr. Robards?"

"Yes, Harry?"

Harry sighed and turned back to face the Head Auror. "Thank you." 

Harry then completely shut the door behind him. He gripped his wand underneath his Auror robes and with a resonating pop, he apparated back to Grimmauld Place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank all of you for all the positive feedback and support you have given me while I've been writing this. This is actually the first story I have ever written on AO3 and it's the first thing I've ever written for the HP fandom. All of your feedback really means a lot and I appreciate each and every one of you. Feel free to leave any comments or suggestions you have for this story or for my writing! I hope you guys have been enjoying the story thus far! :-)


	5. Thank you, Mr. Spiers

He had done it. Draco had successfully manipulated his way inside the vault. However, don't just assume that it was an easy feat. It was extremely difficult and it put tremendous strain on him and his magic. His mind had barely made it back to his own body before the stress took him under.

He awoke a few hours later, with aching bones and a pounding headache. He slowly lifted himself up from his uncomfortable position and climbed off the edge of his bed. He shuffled as quickly as he could to the potion cabinet located on the other side of his room. He searched and was eventually able to find what he was looking for- he found his saving grace, a pain relieving potion.

He popped the cap of the potion and quickly downed its contents. Feeling its relieving effects immediately, he was finally able to think about something aside from the pounding in his head. He opened his eyes wide in shock at his realization. He did it. He actually did it. The reason he had been in so much pain was that he _successfully_ managed to hack into a Gringotts vault.

The shock caused him to lose balance and he was forced to lean against the cabinet for support.

Once he recentered his balance, he ran back to the spot on his bed where he had left his wand. The hardest part was over. Draco wasn't able to use his powers to magically transfer money into his own Gringotts bank, but he was able to weaken the wards and defenses surrounding it until it unlocked. Draco believed that the Goblins wouldn't be able to notice the interference until the vault was actually opened. With that information in mind, he felt especially confident in his choosing of vaults.

He knew he couldn't just hack into an important vault, let alone his own. He was aware of how heavily monitored his vault had become. Not to mention the fact that there was most likely very little left in there anyway. Before hacking into Gringotts, he managed to hack his way into the Ministry's magical database. There were was no resistance from the database's magic as he wasn't trying to get to any important. Rather, he was doing quite the opposite. 

All magical creatures, including witches and wizards, had to be registered to the Ministry once they came into their inheritance. Draco spent a good amount of time finding the least most important wizard on the list. He had to choose someone who wasn't a priority to the Ministry, someone whose report would be left in a stack of papers on the desk of an Auror, waiting until it was convenient enough to be investigated. 

Draco was aware that the Ministry typically had its hands full dealing with whatever else it was that they care about. The Dark Lord's aftermath had seemed to be their main concern. Draco sincerely doubted they would care enough about a few missing galleons to drop their more important cases to focus on it. 

It felt like he searched for hours until he found the perfect victim: Edmund Spiers. While doing his digging, Draco discovered that Spiers had been a prefect at Hogwarts, but that was about the only thing important about him. Spiers was single, excruciatingly normal, and worked at a shop in Diagon Alley. He had a decent amount of money in his vault. If he was careful, Draco doubted that he would raise any alarms. 

With his target in mind, Draco gathered all the necessary information to pull off his heist- Spiers' money was being _safely_  stored in Gringotts vault 702. 

Draco's magic had easily penetrated the walls of the bank. There wasn't really any security on the perimeter of the building. His magic could sense that there was protective magic in place, but he determined that the magic was only activated if any alarms are triggered. Surprisingly, there wasn't any other protective magic on his way to the underground passages.

Vault 702 was not a high-security vault, therefore, it did not have a lot of defenses. Low-security vaults, such as this one, typically only required a key to enter. Draco, obviously, didn't have the key. Instead, he pushed his magic through the keyhole until he had a perfect sense of the magical pattern keeping the vault locked.

Had Draco's body been there, he definitely would have been caught. Draco had noticed that there was surveillance close the entrance of all the vaults, a fact he probably should've already been aware of. The surveillance system they had, however, showed no indication of being aware of Draco's presence. He had seen similar surveillance systems before, Malfoy Manor had even had them. From what he knew, they weren't able to pick up on a magic presence, they could only pick up a physical presence. 

After a moment of consideration on behalf of the surveillance system, Draco pushed the thought out of his mind to focus his magic on the task at hand. He could feel his magic weakening the more he pushed it, but he could tell it wouldn't take much longer. He was carefully unweaving the patterns of magic, weaving in his own to fill the gaps- he was lucky that the Ministry didn't have enough intelligence to keep records of individual magical signatures. 

Finally, he felt the lock to the vault begin to unravel. The second he heard the  _click_ of the unlocking vault, he was forcefully pulled back into his own body. He had one last fleeting thought before he was knocked into unconsciousness:  _It's about time I get my life back._


	6. The First Mission

Harry Potter was completely and utterly stumped. "I just don't get it, 'Mione! I've never seen anything like this before in my entire life. I've been an Auror for years, I've seen all kinds of magic and curses and I have never once felt so incompetent and stupid. I don't even know how I'm supposed to go about this, let alone how I'm going to tell Robards that his best bloody Auror can't even figure out some spell or whatever the hell this is!" He growled the last words, his entire body was practically shaking with frustration. 

He had only just apparated back to Grimmauld Place after spending hours in the underground tunnels of Gringotts trying to figure everything out, or at least, figure something out. Alas, he hadn't figured out a single thing. He knew nothing more than what he did before he even began his investigation. He had attempted everything he could think of. He had even tried using secret spells that he was taught during Auror training- spells that were only supposed to be used in dire emergency situations. He had nothing, he knew nothing. He felt exhausted and defeated and all he wanted to do was go home with the remaining dignity he had left.

Clearly, he was not so lucky. He was stopped by Auror Jackson on his way out of headquarters, who proceeded to question him about his current case. This had frustrated him to no end because he wasn't able to answer a single question. Not because of confidentiality reasons, but simply because he didn't have any of the answers himself. He had tried to dismiss Jackson's questioning, but he had been persistent. It took all of Harry's willpower not to snap out of pure frustration and do something he'd regret. After dismissing Jackon for the hundredth time, he was finally able to get away and escape out of headquarters. Since his day had been going so lovely, of course, he jus had to run into his former rival as he _finally_ apparated home.

His confrontation with Malfoy had been anything but pleasant. However, he was proud of himself that he hadn't completely taken his frustration out on the git. Sure, he had been pretty nasty to him, but he didn't snap or resort to violence. (Although, that's not to say that he wouldn't have if their _chat_ had lasted any longer than it did). Harry knew he had to get inside to calm down before his magic (and his temper) got out of control. In his haste to get inside, he  _accidentally_ shoved Malfoy as he stormed past him. Once inside, he slammed the door and took off his robes before he allowed himself to collapse in front of his fireplace. 

It was times like this that he desperately wished he had his parents, Sirius, or even Dumbledore with him. He yearned for the wise words and advice he knew that they would have been able to provide him. Harry knew he should talk about his frustration- his healer had told him too many times that bottling up said feelings only made them worse. Instead of lashing out (like he so desperately wished to do), he did the only other thing he could think of: He fire-called Hermoine. 

Hermoine had always been able to help Harry. Their friendship had grown so much over the years; Harry trusted her with everything he had. She, of course, answered the call as soon as she had received it. She didn't have to say anything when she answered, she took one look at Harry's expression and waited for him to speak up. She knew better than to pressure him into talking. If Harry was going to ~~scream or~~ talk it out, she knew that he had to do it when he was ready. They remained silent for a few moments, Hermoine watching Harry with a comforting expression on her face and he contemplated just what to say and where to start. 

Finally, all at once, Harry began to rant about his entire day. Starting with waking up so late he didn't have time for breakfast and ending with his unpleasant confrontation with the Malfoy heir. As he ranted, he felt himself gaining more control over his emotions and his magic. He suddenly no longer felt so overwhelmed, but the feeling of complete and utter defeat still remained. 

After what felt like hours, he finished his rant with a deep sigh. He closed his eyes and leaned against the sofa that had been conveniently placed in front of the fireplace. His voice no longer roared with frustration. As his rant went on, his voice grew weak and began to mirror the defeat he was feeling.  "I just don't know what I'm going to do 'Mione. They're all counting on me to solve this and I just can't figure it out." 

To say Hermoine was concerned would truly be an understatement. She hadn't seen Harry so frustrated since he'd worn Salazar Slytherin's locket for too long during their search for Horcruxes. The worst part, she didn't have a clue what to do either. In fact, her lack of knowledge on this particular topic had her feeling equally as defeated as Harry, although she knew better than to show it. Hermoine was the one who always had the answers. She knew Harry had expected her to know what do. She prided herself in her extensive knowledge and intelligence, but for what seemed like the first time, her mind was coming up blank.  

Although she didn't have the answers he was searching for, she knew just what to say to calm him enough for him to relax. "We'll figure this out, Harry. We always do. If the answer to this problem was obvious, they wouldn't have asked _you_ to figure out. They know that you're one of the best out there. You'll see. It's going to take some time, but I promise you, Harry, we're going to figure everything out." 

Harry nodded his head in agreement- he knew better than to argue with Hermione. Plus, he always believed and trusted her judgment. She had never once broken a promise to him either. 

"I can tell you're exhausted, Harry. Tomorrow's your day off, isn't it? Why don't you go to sleep and come over tomorrow morning for breakfast? We can even try to work out your case then as well. It'll be easier to figure it out if you're calm and well-rested."

"Yea... Yea, okay. You're right 'Mione." 

"I'm always right." 

Harry shot her a pointed look, but eventually gave up and nodded in agreement. "Trust me, I know. Goodnight 'Mione." 

"Have a good night, Harry." With one last smile, her face disappeared and the flames returned to normal. 

He sat unmoving for a minute before he forced himself off of the ground. He hadn't realized how sore his muscles were until he stood up. He decided that he was too exhausted to even walk up the stairs to his bedroom, so he just allowed his body to collapse on the sofa. He accio'ed his comforter from his bedroom and finally allowed himself to drift into dreamless sleep. 


	7. The Daily Prophet

Harry sat at his desk with his heads in his hands. He spent the entirety of the last 24 hours with Hermoine, trying to figure out something about the vault at Gringotts. However, they continuously came up empty-handed. They investigated every lead they began with, but it had not bore any fruit. They even spent a few hours at Gringotts trying to gather more evidence, but again, they came up with nothing.

They both were beyond lost. They had even tried recruiting the help of several other highly trained Aurors, the Gringotts' Goblins, and even Hogwarts' own headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. They had all done everything they could to help, but not a single person could figure out what had altered the magic.

Harry kept thinking about the details of the case. He figured he'd be able to find something eventually. He jumped as the door to his office flung open and banged against the wall. Harry looked up to see the face of an enraged Head Auror. 

"AUROR POTTER. I NEED A WORD! MY OFFICE. NOW."

Harry's nerves have been on edge ever since his first day investigating Gringotts. He knew Robards would eventually contact him about his lack of leads and success with the case, but he thought he had a bit more time to prepare himself for the oncoming lecture. Robards looked more frustrated than Harry had ever seen him. Reluctantly, he rose from his seat and followed Robards to his office. 

"Head Auror Robards, I apologize for my slow progress on the case. I've been trying to figure something out, but I'm having a har-"

Robards cut Harry off by slamming a copy of the latest edition of the _Daily Prophet_ on his desk. He looked up from the article and threw an accusing look in Harry's direction. "Did you have something to with this, Auror Potter?"

Harry shook his head as approached Robards' desk to get a better look at what the _Daily Prophet_ had written. 

**_____________________________________________________**

**The**

**DAILY PROPHET**

*The Wizarding World's Beguiling Broadsheet of Choice*

London, England  *  29 September 2001  *  Vol. 21 No. 929        

**_______________________________________________________**

**Magical Interference: Should You Be Concerned?**

_By: Barnabas Cuffe_

Dark magic very well might be on the rise again. We have received multiple reports of magical interference across London. These cases of magic interference were reported to have started at Gringotts bank, the so-called "safest" and most protected building in the wizarding world. Apparently, the magical protections on one of the low-security faults was manipulated. We are unsure as to what or how caused this interference. However, the vault was opened and multiple galleons were reported missing from the said vault. Multiple businesses across London have begun to report similar instances. We've contacted the Ministry and they have refused to comment on this matter as they continue to leave us all in the dark. An anonymous source has come forward and claims that the Ministry has been investigating these reports for months! Our source claims that Harry Potter has been put on the case, but hasn't come up with any leads thus far. If our own savior can't save us, who can? We will continue to investigate these reports as the story develops.  

**______________________________________________________**

After reading the article, Harry was beyond offended. He couldn't believe Robards would even think that he would do something like that. However, he proceeded to calm himself before attempting to defend himself against the surprising accusation. "Head Auror Robards, no offense, but you can't possibly think I had something to do with this? I am beyond frustrated and embarrassed that I haven't come up with any leads yet. Not to mention, I'm sure you're aware of my past with The Daily Prophet. I would never in my right mind go to them for _anything_ , let alone something so important and time sensitive as this case. I can assure you, sir, I had nothing to do with this."

Robards sighed and let himself fall back into his chair. "You're right, I'm truly sorry for accusing you, Harry. I just don't know who would've gone to them about this." 

"I don't know either, sir. I wasn't aware that too many other people even knew about this. Although, maybe it was the culprit himself? Wasn't he able to hack into our registry? If he was able to hack into our system before, there's no doubt that he would've been able to do it again. He probably knows we're on to him so he could be trying to throw us off our game."

Robards eyes widened at the suggestion and jumped up from his chair. "You're an absolute genius, Harry! I knew you were the right man for this job! We believe the culprit hacked into the registry before he hacked into the vault. We didn't find much evidence, but he left behind a signature of some kind. The signature was nothing that we have been able to track. However, we were able to extract it. We're not entirely sure what it is, but we believe it to be his codename. S4L4Z4R. We should check out all our reports for BIMI, maybe he left his signature behind again."

Harry was beyond thrilled to have his first real lead for the case. He finally felt in control of the situation. "I'll get right on it, Head Auror Robards!" Harry immediately rushed out of his office to go and investigate all of BIMI's reports. He was going to find the signature. Then he was going to find the culprit, he was positive of it!

 

 

 

 


	8. Gathering the Galleons

Draco could not believe his luck. He not only managed to successfully open the vault, but he made away with more galleons than what he actually needed. His plan at first had been to just take the bare minimum of what he needed, but why should he stop there? The Ministry hadn't stopped until his vault was practically completely empty. He was confident that they wouldn't be able to track it back anything back to him, regardless of how hard they tried. So, why shouldn't he go all out? In fact, Draco decided to take it a step further and leave behind some clues just to mess with whatever poor Aurors would inevitably be put on the case.

They wouldn't be able to figure out his identity based on the "footprints" he left behind, but he knew that they would surely try with everything they had. Draco smirked at the mere thought of a team of Aurors being unable to solve the clues he left behind. It's not like the clues would actually ever lead to anything, it would just cause them to run around in circles desperately trying to figure it out. 

Draco decided that he would leave behind a name. Not his own, of course, but one that he could use so that those Aurors would know when something had been his handiwork. He may not have wanted them to know his true identity, but he wanted them to know just how skilled he was. He knew better than to pick something obvious. He had briefly considered something like CODRA, but quickly dismissed it. He figured the Aurors couldn't possibly be that stupid, especially after the whole Tom Marvolo Riddle/I am Lord Voldemort thing. Even with their lack of knowledge, it'd be too easy for them to unscramble CODRA and get his name.

Instead, he picked something not exactly related to him, but something that still holds importance. He decided on Salazar. A nod to the founder of personal favorite Hogwarts House. Slytherin held a lot of importance for Draco, although he was past his Hogwarts years, it still continued to mean a lot to him. Slytherin had been the best home he ever had, all of his best memories were centered around it. Even though none of those memories were strong enough to produce a Patronus, they still brought him some happiness whenever he remembered them. Slytherin had even briefly sheltered him from the reality of his parent's beliefs and their involvement with the Dark Lord. He had felt safe there. He had yet to find another place that made him feel the same way since he decided to leave the school. 

However, he still didn't want it to be that obvious. He figured that if they could immediately tell it was Salazar, they'd eventually try to trace it to Slytherins or Death Eaters, considering they were both pretty closely linked to Salazar (and his heir). Draco was two for two, in that case, he had been both a Slytherin and a well-known Death Eater. Although he was still confident that they wouldn't be able to link it to him regardless, he decided to complicate it a bit more.

He finally decided on S4L4Z4R. It didn't appear as obvious as Salazar seemed and it was a nod to some well-known muggle hackers. Draco knew a fair amount about muggle hacking. He didn't know anything about actually doing it, he really wasn't big on their technology anyway, but he definitely was aware of it. He had done some research on the best hackers in the muggle world to determine the best ways to stay in the shadows and undetected. Muggle hackers seemed to know a lot about staying hidden and anonymous. This was where he initially learned about the codenames. His research had compelled to create a codename of his own. If they could do it and get away with it, so would he. 

With his new codename in mind, Draco had finished his business with the vault at Gringotts. He did his standard meditation routine and pushed himself back into the tunnels. Since the vault was already unlocked, he just had to open it. He had quickly etched him codename into the magic of the vault before he turned his attention back to galleons within it. It took a lot of strength to open the vault without being able to physically touch it. However, after a bit of concentration, he was able to creep open the vault. 

Taking the galleons without being able to actually grab them wasn't just a simple task. Draco did not, however, believe that it was impossible. He pushed himself forward to kneel in front one of the smaller piles of galleons. He placed his hands on top of the pile and concentrated all of his magic into his hands. He waited until he began to feel the coldness of the metal seep into his palms before casting _epoximise_ and pulling himself back to his physical body. He was unsure of whether or not the spell would work, but it was the only method he had in mind.

When his mind returned back to his body, he found himself kneeling on his bed with the galleons still attached to his hands. There was no way to describe how relieved he was when he discovered that the spell had worked.

" _Thank Merlin."_  

He wandlessly performed the counterspell and watched as the galleons fell from his hands onto the silk sheets he was kneeling on. He hadn't managed to bring back the entire pile of galleons as he had attempted, but he had managed to bring back more than what he needed. 

He shakingly rose himself up from his spot on the mattress and gathered the galleons he needed into his hands. He then took them and placed them inside a small velvet pouch. He gathered the remaining galleons and placed them inside one of the enchanted drawers inside his desk. He made sure he shut and locked the drawer before doing anything else. Draco double-checked the lock and grabbed his quill.

It was almost 3 A.M., but Draco was determined to make his payment before witching hour hit. He wrote a quick note to the owner of his flat and rolled it neatly before tying it. He grabbed the pouch, the note, and an owl treat before he made his way to Bubo's perch to send his payment.  

Bubo was an older Eagle Owl. He had been Draco's owl since he started at Hogwarts and he had remained loyal to him since. While Draco didn't particularly value sentiments, Bubo meant a great deal to him. However, Draco would never admit his attachment to the animal. He passed the treat over to him while gently petting the feathers on his back. He wasn't caressing the animal as some might believe, he was simply smoothing down his feathers; no owl of a Malfoy would fly around with displaced feathers.

He gently tied the note and pouch to Bubo's foot before giving him instructions. He watched as Bubo flew out of sight on his mission. Knowing that he no longer had to worry about his payment, he walked back up to his living room and stretched himself out to lounge on the sofa. He decided to let himself rest for a moment before he would begin to work on the other aspects of his plan.

 _Nothing_ could stop him now.


	9. Return to Normality... sort of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry, it's been a few days since I've updated, but my classes are driving me crazy atm. I wanted to at least get something posted today because of how amazing you all have been since I started. I couldn't bring myself to leave you all waiting for so long. I didn't really get a chance to read this chapter over and edit it yet, so I apologize if there are any errors or inconsistencies in this chapter. I promise I'll get it edited as soon as I can. If you notice anything you think I should change or fix in this chapter, please feel free to let me know in the comments! 
> 
> Thank you all so much, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> \- Lovelinds <3

The first thing Draco did when he woke up the next morning was over-think. He tended to do that a lot nowadays; he would just contemplate his entire existence. He had the urge to floo his mother, but he couldn' bring himself to actually do it. He knew that they had both suffered after they had narrowly avoided imprisonment. Draco still felt as if he had suffered the most. At least his mother had some kind of choice in the matter. Not to mention the fact that she never even had to take the Dark Lord's mark. He never wanted to take the mark, but he believed that he never really had a choice. He had to be punished to make up for his father's _failures_. 

No one (except  _Potter)_ even stopped to think about what it was like for him. He was just a _child_ , for Merlin's sake. He was raised to always obey his father. His father had attempted to drill all of his own beliefs into Draco. It had worked for a long time; it worked until Draco started questioning his father's beliefs. He realized too late that his father was wrong and he was forced to like with the consequences. 

Draco hated the person that he used to be. He often thought back to the obnoxious git that he was in school. Sometimes, he can't even believe that he was like that. Draco realized that he had been awful to his classmates, especially Potter and his little gang of heroes. Draco had been raised under the impression that Pureblood's were superior to all others. (Although, that whole concept is pretty bloody ironic considering his father's unwavering allegiance to the ~~Dark Lo-~~ Voldemort. Voldemort himself wasn't even a Pureblood. His own father was a muggle!)... Not that it even mattered anymore, Draco managed to completely dismiss the concept of blood purity after the Dark Lord had lost, not that anyone knew or even cared to know about that. 

To everyone else, Draco would always be Lucius' son. He would always be a Death Eater. To the entire wizarding world, Draco was practically worth less than nothing. He knew there was nothing he could do to change that, he could only do things to make his life a little easier.

He didn't really have a complete plan for what to do next. He knew he wanted to get his normal life back, but realistically, he knew that wasn't really possible. His reputation was forever tarnished so it's not like he could go out and just be normal. Now that he didn't have to worry about his rent, he wasn't really worried about anything else. Sure, he wanted many other things that life had to offer, but could hacking actually give him those things? Probably not, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try. 

He had enough money stashed away now to last him at least ten months. So, he wasn't really too worried about that. He hasn't really thought about his old life much since he was stripped of practically all of his belongings, as it had been too depressing for him to remember what he had lost. It took a while of him just concentrating to remember all of the things that used to make him happy: fancy robes, silk sheets, flying... 

Flying. He hadn't flown in ages. Draco struggled to remember the last time that he had even been on a broom. It definitely had been for Quidditch, but it had been too long since he thought about it. Draco had lost all interest in Quidditch during his sixth year at Hogwarts when Voldemort tasked him to kill the Headmaster. In fact, after that, he lost interest in a lot of things. His sixth year was when he really started to resent his and his parents' choices. 

He obviously couldn't bring himself to kill Dumbledore- he wasn't particularly fond of him, but he was no killer. He had tried though, he knew that the fate of his parents lied on his shoulders. Call him a coward, but he had attempted to complete his task without actually having to it himself. (We all know how that turned out). 

He despised the fact that he would never actually be able to prove that he has changed. Even if he could prove that he changed, he doubted that the people's opinion of him would change anyway. He's come to realize that people tend to avoid change. He understood why, however, change had never been easy. Unluckily for him, it was unavoidable.

Draco's emotions bounced between practically every emotion out there as he continued to think. He felt defeat, anger, sadness, guilt, disgust, shame, frustration. Practically all of the above. His anger soon outweighed all else as it was easier for him to feel anger. He was pretty used to that emotion. Even as a child, he would often get angry at his father. Defeat, guilt, shame, and sadness, however, were emotions that he was taught a Malfoy should never feel. 

Anger... The anger he could deal with. He let the anger he felt fill him with determination. With that, he set out to make some _favorable_ changes. 

He decided to take some measures to ease his stress; he would finally allow himself to indulge in the luxuries he no longer had been able to afford. He made quick work out of hacking into Madam Malkin's shop in Diagon Alley to  _get_ some finer robes. Robes of silk green and silver, obviously. He even hacked into Quality Quidditch Supplies to get himself a new broom. He saw many new brooms there, but he was only interested in one particular kind: The Nimbus 2001. Sure, he probably would've liked the newer brooms better, he's heard that they've become even more advanced recently, but he couldn't bring himself to switch.

Quidditch had been Draco's favorite thing when he was in Hogwarts. He never felt happier than he did while he was on the broom. Draco justified his choosing by telling himself it would be easier to just get the Nimbus, so he wouldn't have to learn how to operate the newer brooms. However, he really chose his old broom because of what it meant to his younger self. He desperately yearned to feel the way he did then; he wanted to feel the way he did before the weight of the world was practically thrown onto his shoulders. He figured that his old broom would bring him the most happiness.

It didn't take long for Draco to complete his tasks, but by the time he was finished, he was exhausted. He forgot how much energy went into altering magic. He gently placed his new belongings on the floor beside his bed before he laid down. All the prior anger he felt disappeared and replaced by pure fatigue. He smiled and day-dreamed of wind flowing through his hair as he fell asleep. 

 


	10. Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm feeling really creative right now so I'm trying to churn out as many chapters as I can before my inspiration runs out. I haven't had a chance to read over or edit these chapters, so I apologize for any errors or inconsistencies. I'm sorry for any inconvenience I might cause because of this. I promise to edit these as soon as I can. 
> 
> If you notice any errors or anything in these chapters, please let me know in the comments! If you have any suggestions or anything for this story, I would love to hear them. 
> 
> Thank you!   
> \- Lovelinds <3

Harry Potter was constantly working on his new case. They managed to collect some evidence, but they didn't find anything good enough to lead him to the culprit. Said Culprit always left his bloody codename behind, not that it helped them any. Harry easily figured out the S4L4Z4R stood for Salazar, but he couldn't figure anything else out about. He obviously assumed that the culprit was connected to Salazar Slytherin in some way, but that's all he managed to figure out.

When he first discovered what the codename stood for, Harry had briefly been pretty terrified. Anything related to Voldemort tended to do that to him, even though every trace of him was destroyed. Harry considered checking all former students of Slytherin house, but he knew that there was no way he'd get clearance to do that. Especially since there hadn't been any major offenses. 

Harry attempted to keep his investigation as quiet as possible. Once The Daily Prophet made the article about it, he was kind of forced into making a statement; he had, however, been as vague as he could possibly be while still being reassuring. 

He hated making speeches. Harry knows he's not the most charismatic person out there, but that's not even the main reason that he hates speeches so much. He just hates how much power his speeches have over people. During the war, he was able to use it to his advantage and it helped the Order succeed. Now though, it just felt as if he was abusing his power over the wizarding world. He never wanted that power, but they continued to look up to him after he saved their world. 

He only made speeches when he thought it was absolutely necessary. He didn't enjoy the extra attention that it forced upon him. He was already constantly in the public eye, regardless of how hard he tried not to be. He wished he had been able to get use the "fame" he had, but he never did. He doubts that he ever would be. Harry cringed as he remembered the speech written for him by Robards. 

Harry recited the speech from his memory. He did his best to sound interested and confident, but he couldn't completely rid himself of the underlying bored tone. However, he believed his speech had the desired effect. The crowd erupted in applause after his speech was finished and they all looked much more relaxed than they did before he spoke to them. He was pretty surprised, and somewhat offended when everyone was so easily and completely convinced. He was just an Auror, he wasn't a superhero. The only people who could tell that the words weren't his own were his friends- they were well aware that Harry didn't talk like that. Merlin, Harry didn't even think like that. 

He cringed as he remembered the ordeal. "Hello everyone. I'm here today to address some rumors about recent Auror investigation. Especially, the matters of magical manipulation and interference. I understand your concern, however, you need not be worried. The Ministry has no reason to be concerned, as all reports have been minor offenses. The Ministry has resolved any and all issues regarding these reports. Regardless, I assure you that this matter is at the top of my priority. We are continuing to investigate these matters and we will continue to update when we have more substantial evidence. We cannot, however, reveal any details of this case. Revealing any details could jeopardize the entire investigation. If anyone has any information on these reports, we encourage you to come forward. Please contact the DMLE with any information you think may be vital to our investigation. Thank you."

Harry managed to reassure practically everyone in the audience, aside from his friends, of course. They were concerned about the whole situation, but they knew more than most so they didn't feel as vulnerable. They also had a lot of faith in Harry. They knew he'd be able to figure it out eventually, even if Harry didn't believe it himself. He was grateful for their friends and their positive outlook, but their blind faith often frustrated him much more than it should've. He disliked the fact that everyone thought he had all the answers. However, he especially hated it when it came from his friends. They knew him better than to think he was some savior, regardless of what the rest of the wizarding world thought. 

Although, Harry knew it wasn't their fault. They didn't trust him because he was the "savior," they trusted him because they were his family. Harry wanted so desperately to solve the problem and make them proud, but he worried that he wouldn't be able to do so. He could only imagine the disappointment they would feel if he failed the case. If he failed them. He knew couldn't let that happen. Regardless of how he felt about being a savior, he would do everything in his power to protect his family, they were his Achilles' heel. 

The number of reports had been increasing every day. Small business in Diagon Alley seemed to be getting the worst of it all, but Harry couldn't figure out why. He couldn't understand why someone with such a powerful skill would waste their time on small businesses, but he was grateful for it. He was becoming increasingly worried that the unidentified subject, the unsub, would step up their game. 

He dreads the day that it became a bigger problem. He had a feeling that it was going to happen eventually, it happened fairly common to criminals. In Harry's experience, criminals typically started out small until they gained their footing. Once they became more confident in themselves and their abilities, they would increase the level of their threats. It was always best to catch a criminal pretty early on, but he was getting nowhere with this one. 

He was going to have to get creative if he was going to figure out who was behind all of this. The problem was, he still didn't have a clue on how to proceed. He could maybe try to set a trap of some kind? That usually worked for criminals who become too confident, they often believed they were too good to get caught and they would start to make stupid mistakes. The only problem with this, however, is that Harry would have to wait until this unsub became too confident. 

Harry shuddered at the thought. What would happen when this person became too confident? What lengths would this person go to in order to get whatever it is that they wanted? Harry wasn't particularly afraid, but he knew that whatever power this person had was very powerful. He had no doubt that this person could cause a lot of damage. Harry hoped this person would become too confident before anything tremendously bad happened, but with this plan, he had no choice but to wait and see the outcome. 

He wasn't just going to believe his trap was going to work. He had his fair share of failed attempts in his career and he knew better than to have just one plan. He would need to come up with more ideas eventually, but he figured to work on this one first. Harry figured that this would be his best plan in the long run if he was unable to come up with any more evidence. 

He started brainstorming ideas for his "trap" as he headed to the floo to call Hermoine.

He was going to need all the help he could get. 


End file.
